Hi! This is my first story so please cut me some slack, and yeah.

I feel like I should have more to say...

All rights go to Kiera Cass

Chapter One

"Amiya!" Mya called from down the hall. "Amiya, did you see this?!" She shrieked, piercing the otherwise peaceful afternoon air.

I took my time, brushing imaginary dirt off of my ripped jeans, checking my torn white shirt for something that wasn't not there. "AMIYA!" She screamed, and by now had woken up everybody in the orphanage. I bolted down the hall to her door, determined to shut her up.

"What the–" I stopped. In front of me, door wide open, is Mya. In her hands is a glossy magazine, with bold lettering, A NEW SELECTION? I don't know how she got it, we never had the money to buy one. I snatched it from her oddly-clean hands. "Shut up already, would you? You woke up all of Illea!" I hissed.

She looked momentarily hurt, before pointing to the cover. "Read it!" She squealed. "Read it!" I do as I'm told, flipping through the pages. In Illea, we don't have newspapers. The closest thing we've ever had was the glossy magazines that sport girls I will never look like.

I stop when I come to a page.

On this coming Halloween, Prince Derek Schreave will be coming of age. We wanted to know if our little prince would be having a Selection, like his father King Maxon Schreave.

We asked our lovely queen, America Singer Schreave if she knew, and she had quite the story! "Derek will be having a Selection." She confirmed. "No matter how much I hated it, Max would not drop the subject. For three nights now all he's talked about was our Selection and how Derek should get the same shot." Thank you Queen America!

As a country, we've all been tested as to whether or not put our young princes through this. Each person has put in their own answers, and it seems nobody can deny that King Maxon and Queen America are meant to be. And even the King's parents, former Queen Amberly and Kind Clarkson were a perfect fit.

So, ladies, be expecting that letter soon!

I forgot how to breath for a moment. I stared at the paper. When Queen America became the Queen, everybody was so happy. She was lowest caste at her time to become royalty. And now, I could become royalty, too. Mya could, but she was taken by our best friend Ian Crawford.

I didn't want to become royalty, though. "Think, money could be sent back to the orphanage!" She exclaimed. That got me going. I stayed awake all night dreaming of getting the letter and sending the money back home. I couldn't wait. Food… my friends could finally sleep without their stomachs growling every three seconds.


I hadn't slept at all when the sun rose up. My eyes had burned from lack of sleep and my mouth felt dry. I rushed downstairs, and looked out the window. I saw a few other girls doing the same.

Sure enough, there she was. Mrs. Annie Styles holding fifteen envelopes, each mark with the seal of Illea. She walked in through the creaky door, holding the envelopes up. "Let's see… we have mail for… Joseline…" Joseline rushed to grab hers, practically tearing open the letter. "Mya… Krista… Zecha… Seriah… Iona… Kristen… Katherine… Rose… Kate… Opal… Sally… Collina… and Anaya and Amiya."

My twin sister, Anaya, and I grabbed our letters. The note fell to the ground.

Dear home resident,

We have been informed by a recent census that a female of the ages seventeen to nineteen currently resides in your home. If you, your sister, daughter, or charge is single, eligible and willing to compete, she may join the Selection.

Prince Derek has come of age and is looking for a wife. We wish you good luck.

Sincerely,

Queen America Singer Schreave and King Maxon Schreave

I could barely contain my excitement as I raced towards the table, grabbing a small pen and scribbling down answers.

Eye color: left one green, right one blue.

Hair color: black with red ends.

Skin color: African American

Hobbies: Singing, dancing, painting/drawing

I paused, before adding (just to make them mad) pissing people off.

Caste: 8

Province: Carolina

Abilities/talents: Singing, pissing people off, being dumb

Anaya looked over at my paper, and gave a disapproving shake of her head. I groaned. No way was she going to tell me what to write on this stupid paper. I finished, and placed it back into my envelope, scribbling out the orphanage address with the palace's.

Time to go turn this in.